


A stroke of blue

by Veraverorum (your_Mother)



Series: Reaper76 week 2017 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Reaper76 Week, Role Reversal, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:39:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_Mother/pseuds/Veraverorum
Summary: To gain something one must give up something else.Gabriel and Jack both get a promotion. They pay the same price.Day 2 "In his shoes" - Role/body swapping





	

**Author's Note:**

> A bit late due to RL. Again, thanks to Lacertae for the immense load of work that is betaing my stuff. 
> 
> If I've missed any tags please let me know.

The fabric was new, of a vibrant blue and still smelling of the plastic wrapping that had kept it prisoner up to that moment.

Gabriel passed his fingers on it, slowly, intently testing the cloth for its good quality. The higher ups be damned, they had forgone their penny-pinching habits this one time, and it showed. It was grade A material, developed by one of those mad scientists who worked uncredited for the UN in some unnamed lab somewhere. Probably underpaid too. He was not sure, but maybe made with nanotechnology that prevented the coat from wrinkling or staining or tearing or whatever constituted a wet dream for a tailor.

Personally Gabriel would have made a few different stylistic choices, like a cut that fell in a more flattering way on his ass, maybe... Gabriel was a man who knew very well what his assets were, and how to best enhance them. More so, his passion for couture was not to be underestimated. He could have sewn together something far more fashionable than that bright blue coat any day, in his humble opinion. Not that anyone had asked.

But he couldn’t expect much from people who favored practicality over the pleasure of wearing an aesthetically pleasing duster. Heathens!

By the way things were going, UN-regulated public image was going to be the death of him... or at least, the death of any and all alluring options in his closet. Did anyone have any fashion sense or did it fall on him alone to uphold the minimum requirements?

Strike Commander Gabriel Reyes.

There was a certain justified satisfaction in his gazing at his own reflection in the full-figure mirror of the room assigned to him for the occasion, and Gabriel allowed himself a brief moment to admire his body.

He was strong, more muscular and powerful after surviving SEP training, honed into a perfect killing machine by a war where he was supposed to be the one killing the machines. And maybe he was a bit too vain, but not without reason; the statuesque perfection of his physique could grant him at least a supermodel contract if this venture with Overwatch ever failed.

Setting aside his irony for a carefree moment in the future, Gabriel sorted himself out before exiting his room, the coat fitting almost perfectly on his broad shoulders and acting like a shield... like a barrier between Gabriel and the sharks ready to eat him at the conference where he would be officially proclaimed the head of the new organization. The savior of humanity.

Talking about sharks, the first predator on the list was already waiting for him outside, on the other side of the door.

Jack Morrison, egregious piece of meat and even more egregious piece of shit, as well as Gabriel’s second in command, was leaning against the wall in the hallway. He was probably unaware that the structure could stand by itself even without his precious aid, that pretentious asshole. It was as if he knew he looked good, slouched like that, and was doing it on purpose. He totally was.

It took Jack no time to notice Gabriel’s presence in the hallway, even if the doors of the hotel were the newest kind of silent sliding model, and even if his eyes were closed. It was like Jack possessed some sort of sixth sense in regards to his Commander that made him aware of the other man in every situation where they had to share the same space and sometimes even if Gabriel wasn’t present. This was one of the countless reasons they worked so well together, and it made them act in sync even without speaking to one another, seamlessly able to read the other’s gestures. It was almost frustrating how well they worked together.

The smirk on his handsome face told Gabriel all that he needed to know; Jack was proud of him but even then, he wouldn’t go easy on his ass. Gabriel really wished that things could become a little more literal in that sense, pun intended.

Unfortunately, they never had. The two of them had danced around the big, obvious elephant in the room for many years but had never allowed their lust, or other scarier, visceral feelings, to get the better of them. First and foremost they were soldiers. Whatever else they had was not as important.

Though that had never stopped Jack from being an asshole. Nothing ever did, Gabriel had gotten used to that. The smugness seeped into his voice, thick as oil, as he greeted him, “Well met... Strike Commander.”

“Cut the sass Morrison,” and it was unfortunate how Gabriel was irremediably fond of him even then.

Amused chuckling filled the hallway for a moment, but the second Jack opened his eyes and turned toward him, mirth twisting his lips up, Gabriel's laughter abruptly stopped.

It was like somebody had punched the air straight out of Gabriel. Jack's eyes were the bluest of blues Gabriel had ever seen, the only stroke of color on his pale face. The contrast with the new dark uniform that singled Jack out as the appointed Commander of the newly born and unofficial Blackwatch only seemed to accentuate the blue even further.

Maybe Gabriel was a bit love-struck too, that was always an option. What else could he do if Jack looked at him like that, a perfect mix between ravenous instincts and restraint? As if he wanted to stretch one hand out to touch Gabriel’s one, to hold it between his own in a gentle grip, and at the same time eat him alive?

Gabriel was sure he wasn’t making things up. He had plenty of experience in that field, matured in the years he'd spent mooning all over Jack Morrison and his untouchable status (and ass), and could tell with dead certainty when somebody lusted after him.

Jack’s gaze had been scorching his back for years. Sometimes soft, sometimes ravenous. Sometimes full of hate, but it had always been there, like a familiar weight burning through him.

Not like Gabriel wanted to taunt him. Much.

So even if they couldn’t actually have what they wanted, Gabriel had proposed Jack to the UN as a candidate for the role of Commander of the underbelly organization, Overwatch’s secret evil twin. A Commander that had to answer and report directly only to the Strike Commander, one who took orders only from Gabriel and no one else.

It was just another excuse to bind Jack to him. Closer and closer still.

The smirk that blossomed on Jack's face told Gabriel that his emotions were far too easy to read, and that he knew exactly what Gabriel was playing at, but instead of acknowledging what had transpired at the higher ups’ meeting, he said, “the whole conference room is waiting for you, Gabe. You don't want to make them wait, do you?”

With a deep sigh, Gabriel made himself move. He shot a last fleeting glance at Jack’s striking, bright eyes before walking past him, shoulders brushing in a caress that was less than what both men desired, but that was the most they could afford to get. Now, and maybe ever.

“Let’s not keep the civs waiting, then,” in a fast stride, Gabriel walked through half the hallway while Jack fell in tow, two steps behind him at the same unfaltering pace. Always there.

Gabriel could still feel the intense gaze of eyes on the back of his neck, blue so deep it could burn down the whole world if only he allowed it.

Two steps would have to be enough.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> Kudos and comments make authors happy~
> 
> (also I'm on tumblr if you want to talk @ veraverorum.tumblr.com )


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